Goodnight, my dear
by falling into heaven
Summary: A dead man with a mouthful of cash, a woman dressed as a fairy dead in a tree, and a witness Flack really didn't want to see. All in a day's work for the team. Casefic, with FA, DL and a bit of Adam/Haylen thrown in for good measure.
1. Breaking Rules

Okay, so I've been dying to do an F/A casefic. And what better time to do it than when I'm almost in tears at the FA scenes in Lat/Long and at the spoilers for 6x08? ("personal problems" my ass! We all know what that means!)

I should be working on my chemistry coursework, or my english essay, or even... ah, screw it. FF wins everytime...

This is for Allie, Steph, Jess and Laura, who were sat with me in Chemistry, procrastinating and helping me (or not, as it turned out) decide where to go with the Allie Black story. Helpful, guys! And no Steph, you do NOT get to be made into a character and sleep with Tony!!

NCIS is already airing in Britain!! FX, you RULE!!

Big smiles, Anna

Disclaimer: Stuff it. I'm tired; I do not own CSI:NY - nor would I _want _to, with the way s6 is going...

* * *

The club was pulsing with a heaviy baseline, the lighting dark and intimate. It was crammed full, and Angell had to shimmy her way out of the crush round the bar, holding two beers aloft her head. Flack watched her as she strode towards him. She looked impatient, annoyed and ready to drop both bottles and pull the .22 he knew she had strapped to her ankle on whichever idiot put his hands on her next. She'd politely turned down two hopefuls, then grown irritated by the next four, pointing first to Flack, then to her gun, then to the badge she'd hidden under her shirt at her waist.

Jess handed him a bottle, giving him a glare. "You better savour that Flack, 'cos I ain't going up there in a hurry."

He grinned at her, turning his blue-eyed charm on the unsuspecting Detective. "Thanks, Jess. It's nice we can go grab a drink together."

She paused, the bottle rim just touching her lower lip. "You hittin' on me, Detective?"

Flack blushed. "Hey, you agreed to come out with me."

"I didn't know it was a date..." She leaned back in her seat, studying her partner from under her lashes. Suddenly, she sat forward. "Okay, talk it out."

He chuckled. 'Talking it out' was something they did a lot in the precinct when they were stuck on a case. Whichever Detectives happened to be in the squadroom at the time sat around, and spilt - half would argue for a theory, helf would argue against. It predicted what the lawyers would say, at any rate. "Alright. I like you."

"You outrank me." She countered.

"You like me."

"It's against the rules."

"No-one needs to know."

"They will find out."

Flack's eyes met hers in a piercing blue gaze. "Simple question, Detective. Do you want this?"

Jess tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know I like you, Don. I don't make a secret of it. But I don't want people to think I'm trying to sleep my way up the ranks! I can't deal with being stuck to the water cooler forever! Don..."

He leaned forwards, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "Jess... No-one is going to know. We're professional at work, and Detectives. We know how to have a relationship and keep it out of the office."

Her heart fluttered at the skin to skin contact, and she tried to slow her heartrate down to an acceptable level. "Well... I guess we could-"

She was unable to finish her sentence as Don chose that moment to lean forwards and kiss her gently on the lips. His lips lingered against hers for a moment, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair, cupping the base of her neck. Jess was momentarally stunned by the action, but quickly leaned into the kiss, resting a hand lightly against his cheek, her finger brushing against the five o'clock stubble he'd accumulated through the day. Don could feel her smile against his mouth, and pulled back, holding her gaze just as intensely as before. "So? Help you make up your mind?"

She gathered her thoughts into something remotely comprehensible as a sentence, and mock-glared at him. "If you'd have let me finish, I was going to say I guess we could make something work. But you very rudely interrupted me."

A smirk tugged Flack's lips. "Oh yeah? So you wouldn't want me to do it again, I suppose?"

"Most definately not," she murmured as she pressed her lips to his.

* * *

Flack nudged Jess with his foot, chuckling as she stirred, and clamped a pillow over her head. "C'mon, Detective. Up."

"Screw you!" She groaned, burrowing back down under the sheets.

He flipped back the comforter, tracing a line along her calf muscle. "I think you already did. Now get up."

She sat up, shooting death glares at him. "I hate you." Angell wrapped the sheet tightly round her body, heading for the bathroom. "I'm gonna need coffee!"

Flack pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, unable to stop the grin from sreading across his face. Dating Jessica Angell... It wasn't something to be taken for granted, that was for sure. He watched her slam the door shut with a childish temper, and scribbled a quick note to Jess, leaving it on the bed. Pulling on his sneakers, he grabbed his keys and headed out of the door.

The coffee shop owner grinned as Flack walked in. "Detective! Been a while since I've seen you."

"Hey, Keith. Two black coffees please, one with cream, one without. Yeah, usually make me own coffee these days. But, uh..." He trailed off, smiling to himself.

"Girlfriend's in the shower, ah?" The older man winked at Flack, handing him two cups. "That'll be one dollar fifty."

He handed the man the change. "You cutting your prices, Keith?"

"For you, yeah. You caught the guy that attacked my daughter. Coffee's cheap for you here." The man lowered his head, the respect for the detective clear.

Flack grinned. "You flatter me." He dropped two extra dollars in the tip jar on his way out, nodding at the smiling waitress. Before, he would have flirted with the curvy blonde (Jenny, he thought her name was), but now he had his own brunnette back at his apartment, in his shower... His pace increased slightly.

* * *

Jess wrapped a towel round her lithe body, wringing the water out of her hair. It curled round her shoulders, tumbling down her back like seaweed. Her skin tingled from the cold water, making the air feel a little warmer than it would have done if the shower had been scolding. "Okay, so I have showered, am in a slightly better-" she broke off as she glanced round the living room, seeing no sign of Flack. "Fine then," she huffed.

Storming into the bedroom, Angell stopped short as she saw a scrap of paper on the bed. She instantly recognised Flack's messy, left-handed scrawl that had made paperwork so much more difficult when she couldn't decipher his crime scene observations.

_Jess,_

_Gone for coffee, hopefully it'll put you in a good mood :)_

_Don't use all the hot water._

_Don xx_

She clutched the note tightly, a goofy grin spreading across her face. But she couldn't help it - she'd never got a note before (notes telling her so-and-so called about an update didn't count). All of her exes had been wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Although, it was usually her sneaking out at six o'clock in the morning, desperate not to wake them. She blamed alcohol and bad taste for her choice in men.

Until Flack, her rule had been 'first date's the last date'.

That was going to have to change...

"Angell?"

She whirled round to see Flack stood in the doorway, two cups of coffee in his hand. She accepted one gratefully, kissing his cheek lightly. "Thanks. Sorry, morning's are my worst point."

"I know." He chuckled. "I've seen you when you've woken uo after sleeping at your desk, remember? I think Scagnetti's words were 'I hate women. Hormonal as hell'."

"Feel sorry for my brother. He was the one my mom sent in to make me get up when I ignored my alarm. She used to say he needed a crash helmet and full kevlar suit if he wanted to make it out alive." She winced at the memory.

Flack laughed out loud. "Well I guess I'm lucky that I don't wake you up then. And next time you fall asleep at your desk, I'm sending Messer."

Jess lowered her towel, grabbing her clothes from the night before and pulling them on. Flack took in the hip-hugging jeans, white blouse and beaten-up cowboy boots, and sucked in his breath.

She paused, midway through tying her hair up in a ponytail. "This gonna be too dressy?"

"No, I'm thinking Hernandez is gonna try it on with you... again. I can't do with an assault on my sheet. Wouldn't look too good." He sighed.

She smacked him in the arm. "Go shave! You know I hate stubble..."

"Puh-lease." He scoffed. "When have you seen stubble on me?"

"True," she admitted.

Flack managed to get halfway through the mandatory shave before his cell rang loudly. "Flack, he answered, jamming the phone against the side of his face that _wasn't _covered in shaving cream. "Hey, Loo."

Jess rolled her eyes as she figured it was Luietenant William Sythe on the line. He was a reasonably understanding man, had complete respect for Mac and his team, but was a stickler for rules. He'd made his way up to Luietenant at only fourty-two by doing what neither Flack nor Angell were good at - playing politics.

"Uh-huh. Sure." Flack rested his hand on Angell's forearms as they wrapped tightly round her waist. "Yep, I'll call her. Got it."

"What?" She asked quickly, resting her chin on his shoulder - no mean feat when he was 6'3 and she was only 5'7.

"Homicide on the Upper East Side. Two some woman and her friend came home from a charity event to find the boyfiend shot on the couch. Apparantly she's a little hysterical."

Angell rolled her eyes, unwinding her arms and going in seasrch for her badge and gun. "Don't even _think _about sticking me on witness statements Flack, or else I'll tell Danny about the birthmark you have on your ass!"

He stuck his head round the doorframe. "And when he asks how you know?"

"I'll do what you always do," smirked Jess. "Blag it!"

* * *

The waking up complete with headgear? Running joke in my family. I hate mornings. Takes me three alarms to get up. And a lot of coffee. Okay, y'all. Review, please?


	2. Money Man

Well. Last time was interesting; this time is so much fun...

Review, please.

Anna.

Disclaimer: In the famous words of Elliot Reed... Frick! _(Allie- YAYY, I have not seen scrubs in FAR too long...=O)_

* * *

Flack and Angell were the first Detectives on-scene when they arrived at the crime scene. The building had a doorman at the front entrance, who opened the door for them _(Allie- Erm, Isn't that his job..? Anna - sarcasm is not your most attractive quality, Allie)_, allowing them past as they flashed their badges.

"Place like this, an' I'm making enough to rent a third-floor walk-up in downtown Manhattan, with a 'roach problem." Jess growled.

Flack chuckled, nudging her arm with his. "C'mon. Could you really see yourself as a New York socialite, living in a place like this and doing _nothing_?"

She cocked her head to one side, taking in the glass and chrome themed entrance hall, as they stepped into the elevator. "You kiddin' me? You're actually asking me that?"

Don rolled his eyes. "Says the woman that likes watching hockey instead of mushy films." _(Allie- that's because hockey is just better. Simples. I love that meerkat. Anyway. I digress. Apologies Anna - sorry folks, tangents are her weak point, and I'm talking ice-hockey here)_

They stepped out of the elevator and were greeted by two uniformed officers. The youngest man didn't look too far out of the academy, judging by the grey tinge to his face.

"First dead body?" Angell asked sympathetically.

He nodded grimly. "Yes ma'am. I, uh..."

Flack interrupted him. "Who found the body?"

"Witnesses." The older cop explained. "Look pretty shaken up."

"Detective Angell, will you take statements from the witnesses please?" He asked quickly, though it was more an order than a question.

She glared at him. "Fine." Jess stormed through to the kitchen, past the body sprawled on the couch. There was a large dark stain on his white shirt, and the man's head lulled back, eyes open and glassy. There was high velocity blood spatter (_Al- is this a technical term?! Anna - YES!!)_ covering him, and the white leather couch. Sure as hell wasn't a pleasant sight - specifically not for his girlfriend.

Two women sat in the kitchen, knocking back coffees - no doubt with something extra added. One was shaking still, with a dark brown bob framing her pretty face. She looked young, and frail - if Jess had passed her in the street, she wouldn't put her at more than twenty three. Though she expected a dermatologist had something to do with that. The other was rubbing her back comfortingly, her long hair cascading down her back. It was a light red colour - the colour she described as 'ginger', but a socialite classed as 'strawberry blonde'. _(Al- =D Anna - Jethrowe!)_

"Hi. My name's Detective Angell. Could you tell me what happened?" She asked gently, using her best 'I'm sorry your boyfriend's dead on your couch' voice, as opposed to her personal favourite, 'call me a bitch and I lock you up for the night'. _(Al- aha Anna - also a speciality of mine)_

The woman let out a choking sob, her shoulders shaking with the effort of stopping herself.

Angell bit her lip. Flack was really gonna pay for this... "What's your name?"

"She's Lilia Mae," The friend replied. "My name's Devon Maxford. We were coming back from a charity ball, and found Ed on the couch... dead. We didn't touch him... the body... Just called nine-one-one and sat in here."

Jess noted down the details in her memo book. "Okay... Lilia, I know this is tough, but can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Ed?"

Lilia looked up, her eyes full of confusion and shock. "No! Why would anyone want to hurt Ed? Everybody loved Ed!"

Devon didn't look all that confident, but stayed quiet. (_Al- whyyyy?!!! Anna - Well if I told you that, what else would I write about, smarty-pants? Patience!)_

* * *

"Vic's name is Ed Malone. Rich boy, moved up here from Chicago. Rumoured to have family in the mob." The older officer Flack now knew to be named Evans explained. "Worth around two million bucks, but he likes to spend it. Women, drugs, jewellery... He's done it all. Good at keeping his expenses in check though."

Flack nodded, scribbling in his memo book. "Okay... so who do I speak to on the Chicago end about his father?"

"Mmm... not sure. Speak to Hernandez in Organised Crime, I spoke to him the other week, and he's got links in Chicago." Evans suggested.

He approached the body, careful not to touch - he knew from experience that the CSI's preferred to get the body 'clean' i.e. no cops putting their prints and DNA all over the place. "One gunshot wound... can you speak to the neighbours, see if they saw anything?"

Evans shot Flack a sceptical look, but nodded nevertheless. After all, every cop knew canvassing the area for witnesses was necessary, if pointless. "Got it."

Don strode back round to the kitchen, grinning at Jess from the doorway. "Detective? Can I have a minute?"

She muttered something that sounded like 'You already got several', but came anyway. "What's up?"

"Look's like our vic's got links to the mob." He informed her, tracing a line from her waist to her hip_. (Al- literally took me this long to work out that Vic means VicTIM... please don't laugh at my incompetence=) man I am so not cut out for crime fiction editing...I need to learn the lingo Anna - aye you do. Keep up!)_

She bit back a grin. "Oh yeah? Well I've got two witnesses that swear blind that Ed was a good guy, no-one would hurt him. Well, the girlfriend said it, friend didn't seem so sure."

"Let me have a word. I'll get the truth."

"What, so you can flirt? Puh-lease."

He chuckled at her childish look. She caught the grin, and glowered even more. "You gettin' jealous, Angell?" (_Al- she so is... Anna - I amn FOR her!)_

"Hey, you were the one that got me in your bed last night. It entitles me to be jealous!" She shot back. "Come on."

They headed back into the kitchen, and Flack stopped dead as he saw his ex-girlfriend - the one he'd broken up with because he'd realised he liked Jess - sat at the table, comforting her friend._ (Al- ooooh awkward=S)_

"Devon, Lilia, this is my partner, Detective Flack. He's gonna ask you a few more questions." She told them gently, glancing back to her partner. "...Don?"

"Um..."

"Don." Devon said flatly, her voice cold. Apparently, she still hadn't gotten over him dumping her...

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Flack? You wanna tell me what the hell's the problem?"

He pulled her towards him, keeping his arm automatically on her elbow. "I... used to date Devon. Then broke up with her. 'Cause I liked you." _(Al- aww, he doesn't beat about the bush does he?)_

She bit her lip in an effort not to laugh. "Wow, I didn't know you went for anything other than blondes, Detective..."

"As far as I can see, you're not blonde." He retorted.

She actually had to laugh at that one. "And as far as _I _can see, you haven't even asked me out. Yet."

He cocked his head. "Okay. I deserved that one. Can we talk about that later?"

"Sure. Now back to our current... _problem_. Do you want to be reassigned?"

He shook his head. "No. If she can behave, I can. I'll just get you to talk to her..."

She gave him her usual 'yeah-right' look, before returning to her 'super-duper-professional-detective' persona. "Okay. We've been informed that Ed may have had links to..."

"The mob." Flack finished quickly, measuring the women's reactions carefully. While Lilia looked horrified, Devon's face remained completely neutral. If the training course on body language was anything to go by, the news was not new to his ex-girlfriend. _(Al- I knew she knew somethinggg)_

"No way." Lilia told them defiantly. "Ed was a good man. No way was he connected to the mob! I would have known! No way!"

Jess sighed. "Well we have to explore all possibilities, ma'am, so if you could-"

"Yo! Any Detectives on-scene?" Danny Messer's voice floated to meet them.

"Kitchen." Angell called, not taking her eyes off her memo book as she scribbled in it quickly.

Danny and Stella joined them in the large kitchen, and a flicker of recognition glanced across Stella's face as her eyes met Devon's. "I know you. You're, ah..."

"Don's ex-girlfriend." Angell smirked.

"Oh, so this was the chick you met at the hockey game?" Danny grinned at his friend's discomfort. "The one that got robbed?"

"Mhmm." He replied vaguely, hoping desperately that they could get more on-topic. "Vic's name's Ed Malone. Gunshot wound to the chest, no-one's touched the body. Cross check everything with Chicago PD - possible links to the mob."

"Hey!" Devon said sharply. "Lilia said he had no links to the mob."

"Yeah, an' I've got a cop that says he has." Don shot back. "If you want me to catch this guy's killer, you're gonna have to stop _butting in_." _(Al- she got TOLD=P)_

Angell raised her eyebrows at Danny, who stifled a laugh. "Um... when you two have finished, we have to update 'em, Flack."

"Mhmm. Okay, so there's no obvious signs of forced entry, means he either knew the killer, let him in, or the perp had a key."

Angell nodded. "Exact-a-mundo. Okay, who else has a key to the apartment?"

"Just me and Ed." Lilia frowned. "...And the key under the mat."

Danny slapped his head. "_Every _time. Every time, they leave their keys under the doormat." He turned around to see if the offending key was indeed still under the mat. "When are people gonna learn to actually _read _the leaflets the NYPD hand out?! We don't do 'em for fun!"

Devon glanced at Stella - who seemed to be giving off the calmest aura in the room, as opposed to Danny's irritation, Jess' amusement and Flack's somewhat frazzled state. "What's going to happen?"

"We'll find as much physical evidence as we can, then Angell and Flack will look into Ed's life, find out what they can, and some of our guys back at the lab will look at his electronic equipment, check his records."

"Hawkes, the technological guru." Angell muttered. "Flack, walk with me?"

He nodded, and guided her out of the room, a hand resting lightly on her lower back - almost a subconscious gesture. "Hallway."

Devon looked at Stella. "They got something going on?"

"I don't think so." Stella replied quickly. "They're very professional."

Lilia glanced at her friend, who looked less than convinced. Stella had to admit, she felt the same way.

* * *

Angell faced Flack, arms folded. "Look. You and Devon were together, okay? If the Brass get wind of this, you'll be pulled off the case. You'd be better off letting me and Stella handle it."

He sighed, rubbing his jaw. "Devon might be a little difficult with Stella. They didn't get along so well last time. I'm probably better off keeping her under control."

"Fine, whatever. First sign of trouble, you're off." She told him icily.

"I'm senior." Flack pointed out.

"Oh yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "So's Stell. And she'll back me up."

Danny's head shot from Detective to Detective, watching the argument intently. So far, Don was pulling the 'I outrank you' card, but the sheer determination in Angell's face suggested who would be triumphant in the end.

"Jess, if Cap tells me to get off the case, I'll get off the case. 'Till then, can we please just work?"

She nodded curtly, and turned to Danny as he walked away. "So, key around?" She folded her arms as she caught the questioning look on his face. "What?"

"Nothin'." He sighed. "Key's gone. Just a sec..." He fished a cable out of his kit and fed it into the lock, attaching it to a monitor. "Here, take a look."

She leaned forwards to see the inside of the lock. "Oh-kay, what am I looking for again?"

"Exactly." He grinned. "If the lock had been picked, there'd be scratches on the mechanisms here, and-"

"There aren't." She smiled. "Is the key here?"

"Nope. But any monkey could figure out it was there. Other than the plant-pot, it's the first place you'd look."

She glanced round. "No plant-pot."

"Hence... the first place you'd look." _(Al- Am I missing something obvious??? WHERE?! __Ten mins later...__ 'OHH'.)_

Jess straightened up, chewing her lip. "So, we have a lock that hasn't been picked, a guy who's been shot in the chest. Crime of passion?"

Stella pocked her head round the door, an incredulous look on her face. "Actually, we have a lock that hasn't been picked, a guy who's been shot in the chest from less than two feet, and he... well, he had five thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills in his mouth." _(Al- =O)_

"Say what?" Danny did a double take.

She nodded. "Yeah, the guy had five thousand bucks in his _mouth_. It might complicate things."

* * *

So. Good? Bad? Ugly?

_(Allie- It's not bad OR ugly, (except for the dead guy, that can't have been pleasant) which must mean it's very VERY good, if not a little confusing towards the end, but then again it doesn't take much to confuse me...so yay! Was it under the doormat in the end or not?!)_

Let me know. _(Al- You heard her=)_ )

I must now apologize for the banter/arguments throughout in italics. Blame Allie. She started it. If it annoys you, say. If we make you laugh, say. Whatever. Just let us know, 'kay?


End file.
